Standoff
by Penelope Wendy Bing
Summary: Peeta and Gale both love Katniss; they both need her desperately. But only one of them can ever have her, and does either of them really deserve her?


**A/N**- If you think I own the Hunger Games, you are sadly deluded. And a huge thanks to LoveTheBoyWithTheBread, who beta-s everything I crank out. You rock! Couldn't do it without you. And to clarify, this is a oneshot. Sorry to the people who reviewed encouraging me to update. You guys are great!

_Peeta_

I'm not doing anything wrong. Katniss asked me to stay with her 'til she fell asleep. She's asleep now, and I'm still sitting by her bed. I can't make myself leave. There's no way to escape the pain this girl brings. When I'm not with her, I just want to see her face. When I'm with her, I remember the way she pretended to love me; she gave me everything I dreamed of, but it wasn't real.

I hold onto the edge of the chair I sit on. I won't touch Katniss Everdeen. She doesn't want that. I do, but that doesn't matter. So I keep my hands cemented to the chair. If I don't, they'll brush her cheek without my permission.

The door opens. I look up; it's Gale.

We don't say anything. We just look at each other. It's too bad we're separated by this girl; neither of us is a bad person; maybe we would have even been friends if we didn't both love her so much.

Gale's hard gaze holds clear intention. He's saying, _Get out. Now._

I feel fire in my stomach, but it's like an animal in a snare. I can't let it out. I've done so much for this girl. I've helped her live and stay sane. How can Gale just dismiss me like this? I know how. Because she loves him. He's won, and there's nothing I can do about it.

It feels like a childish game of tug-of-war. I could just imagine us arguing.

_I loved her first!_

_Oh yeah Lover Boy? I've been her best friend for years._

I hold his gaze across the room for as long as I can. Then I stand.

Gale doesn't deserve her. This is why. He won't let her be with me, even in her sleep. He thinks he owns her. Even if Katniss wanted to choose me he'd never let her. He is a miser, saving her up for himself. I never take my eyes off him as I walk toward the door.

He won't even give me this. I can't honestly say I hate him; I've had enough of hate to last me for the rest of my life. But I hate what he's doing.

My eyes leave his as I pass him. I turn the handle to the door.

"Mellark?" He says in a low voice. I turn.

"Hawthorne?"

He opens his mouth to say something, and then stops. He shakes his head a little bit and turns to the chair. He sits down and puts his hand over Katniss', who twitches in her sleep, muttering something. Maybe it's his name, maybe it's mine. Maybe she's having a nightmare about her father again.

I don't stay to find out. I walk out of that room, away from the girl I love and the boy who's stolen her.

_Gale_

I walk up the stairs quietly. She's asleep now, and if she's managing to dream without having horrible nightmares then the last thing she needs is for me to interrupt her. I linger at her door. This house is so unlike her. It's huge, grandiose. It's the wrong habitat for this girl, like finding one of the forest animals we hunt on the wrong side of the fence.

I can't stay away from her. I thought I lost her when she volunteered for Prim. I thought that she'd forgotten me when she was "in love" with that boy. And even now that I have her back with me she's shying away.

I push open the door to her room and stop. It's Peeta, sitting here with her. Well, not really with her, but over her. He has that pained, hungry look of his that makes me so mad.

I can't believe he really loves her the way I do. How could he do this to her if he did? How could he say things that remind her how much the fact that she doesn't love him hurts him? He must know how hard it is for her. But he still plays the part of the perfectly loving, wounded boy. Even if it's true, he needs to be stronger, for her. He needs to be strong, like I was at the Reaping.

This isn't all he's done to her. He claims he's loved her forever, but he's ignored her for the last, what, five years? That's not what love is. You don't put it down for years and pick it up again when it's conveniently going to save your life.

He looks up and our eyes meet.

He doesn't deserve her. I've always been here for her, in ways he couldn't begin to understand. It's easy to stand by somebody for two minutes during a fight; the real challenge is sticking with them for years while you constantly struggle against slow starvation.

He's taken the easy way to her heart; he's taken advantage of the way she feels in debt to those who help her. He did help her, and now she'll never feel like she's paid him back.

I stare hard at him. He will leave her be. I will protect her from him. He stands and walks toward the door without looking away from me. I keep my eyes on the place where he was standing as he passes me. I hear the door open.

How could he not love her? How could anyone not love this incredible girl?

"Mellark?" I say suddenly. I want to tell him…something. Something that lets him know everything I think about him, and about her.

"Hawthorne." He replies, his voice as even as he can make it. We look at each other. I open my mouth but there aren't words to say what I want to. I shake my head. Peeta's the one who's so good with words, not me.

I sit down next to her and carefully put my hand over her Capitol-perfected one. She twitches and whispers. He leaves us and I sit alone with the girl I may never truly get back, thanks to Peeta Mellark.


End file.
